


The Mockingbird Flies On

by aadd90



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aadd90/pseuds/aadd90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after the death of Ned Stark, his family has practically nothing left. Catelyn has given up on hope, and a shell of an estate can barely sustain her family. She is forced to turn to her last resort, which is marrying who was once her small, obsessive, childhood companion. Petyr Baelish is rich and witty, and welcomes the Starks (and what's left of their inheritance) into his massive, strangely cold house. But by doing this he discovers something he didn't expect. Over the years he develops a frighteningly close relationship with one of Cat's daughters. </p><p>The story follows Sansa as she learns about life, love, family, death, and how to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fan fiction, please leave any comments, questions, criticisms, etc. Things will progress to a less creepy territory in the future. And there will be sexy times. The years/ages may differ slightly from actuality. All characters belong to George R.R. Martin.

Her mother has been going out every Saturday for the past five months. Sansa used pry to find out what she's up to, but Catelyn only answers vaguely. "For business," was the first answer. Which Sansa knew was a lie, because her mother never worked a day in her life. There was no way Catelyn could do anything for a job, or to sustain money. Her mind wasn't the same, since Ned's death. She could barely hold a conversation, let alone efficiently do something. 

Her mother eventually started to come home late. Which eventually faded into not coming home until morning, with her clothes wrinkled, and her once flawlessly neat auburn hair a mess. The first time she did it, Robb nearly called the police. But when Catelyn finally would come home, sleep for a few hours, and return to her catatonic life as a mother, peace was restored in the Stark household once again. Well, as much peace as there could be. 

Although Catelyn got really distant. She wouldn't care for the children like she used to. She would look off in thought, ignoring Rickon's whining. Robb takes care of Bran more than she does. Sometimes, during dinner, the phone rings, and Catelyn talks for hours.

The next time Sansa asked where Catelyn went, her mother replied, "To do adult things." That made Sansa feel stupid. But also nervous.

One Saturday night Sansa got thinking. What if Catelyn had gotten so out of it that she completely forgotten about her love for Ned? What if she's just floating in oblivion, and doesn't quite realize what she's doing? What if she's going out with someone, and "doing adult things," to make her self feel better? What if Catelyn thinks that her lover with make her happier than her life, than her children?

When Sansa felt brave enough, she expressed these thoughts to Arya. "You worry too much," she'd said. But Sansa could see that Arya felt uneasy. 

As time went on, things continued to get worse. Catelyn started to go out on other nights besides Saturdays, and stayed out for just as long. Sansa became aware of the bills piling up, of the fact that the money was almost gone. The only thing they truly had left was their estate, but none of the Stark children would allow it to be sold off. They had too many memories of the place, to many attachments. The house and property had always belonged to the Starks, and was built by one of their ancestors. The estate was called Winterfell, because the whole massive home was amazingly built in the duration of one peculiarly long winter. 

Eventually, Sansa stopped speaking to her mother. She stopped questioning, stopped worrying, and simply waited. What she was waiting for, she wash't quite sure. Some kind of change. Maybe for them to completely run out of money to the point of not being able to buy food, or clothes. Maybe to the point of having to leave. Maybe Catelyn would wake up one day and realize how badly her family needed help. Maybe she would become normal again. Sansa hoped for something awful to happen. Maybe a bomb could be dropped on Winterfell, or maybe it could burn down. All that would be left was rubble, a ruin for teenagers to venture to at night, telling stories of how the property was haunted. Sansa could picture people telling stories of the beautiful, red-haired girl who lived there, and how you can see her ghost in the rubble, dressed all in white. 

She could picture the Lannisters coming to the funeral, feeling horrible. Thinking about how Sansa never got old enough to marry Joffrey. And Joffrey, finally recognizing how lucky he was. Thinking about how he should have treated her better. 

What Sansa really thought would happen is that something awful would happen to Catelyn or Robb, and no one would be left to care for the children. Possibly Catelyn would leave them, and they would need to get orphaned off to some boring relative. Catelyn would be doing adult things, happy and oblivious to her life before. Not thinking of her sad, lonely children. 

But other times Sansa really believed that Cat could get better. Because now and again, Sansa saw how her mother looked at the kids, how she pet Rickon's hair, teased Arya, how she helped Bran and discussed school with Robb. How she would smile at Sansa and tell her that Joff was the stupidest boy who ever lived for not being kinder to her. In those moments, Sansa thought, "She is still the wonderful mother she used to be. Times are just rough. She would still do anything for us."

It was only until the day Catelyn came home and told them the news that Sansa knew just what her mother would do for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play a drinking game. You take a shot every time I steal an actual Petyr quote. Quotes that don't belong to me, but George R.R. Martin.

Ever since Ned Stark's death, Petyr Baelish's life has become exceedingly more interesting. Robin and his nanny had been shipped off to a warm, unoffensive place where he could hopefully develop into a much more tolerable person by the time he comes back. Petyr's job was normal, and his side business was booming. The Lannisters were happier and easier to deal with, now that their two least favorite bearded men were dead. They even started to relax a bit, and Petyr started to collect more information. He had to admit, though, that even he was a bit lighter. Petyr knew that in time, the effort spent at his end would be worth it. He just had to sit back, and let things fall into place. 

It took her longer than he expected, but Petyr supposed that after years in the cold with five children and a bastard, Cat would have strengthened a bit. In fact it took years, but she eventually called. "I thought it would be nice to talk to you again, really talk, after so many years."

But Petyr knew better. Ned dies, Cat grows depressed. Cat grows depressed, she realizes she can't care properly for her beloved children. She grows desperate. Who can she ask for help? Someone who she knows that has money. Someone who conveniently loved her as a child.

Which is also convenient for Petyr. There is only one way Cat can get Petyr's money, and that entitles Petyr's things becoming hers. Which also means that Cat's things become Petyr's. 

"Of course, I agree. But we must meet in person. I have to see your face again. I'll pay very close attention once I've seen you. Perhaps dinner?" Shower her with compliments, make her think that you're still completely captivated. Take her someplace expensive, pay in cash, show her the thick green wad of hundreds, each paper being carefully pulled out with a crisp, whoosh noise. 

It was so simple. Petyr's best feature was his patience. 

He kept playing Catelyn, kept saying all the right things, listening oh-so carefully. Of course she assumed that Petyr wanted sex, as any woman would. She had taken longer to progress with other things, so Petyr was almost shocked at how quickly she allowed him to fuck her. Perhaps it was for comfort reasons.

It was strange the first time. Cat was clearly very uncomfortable being sexual with Petyr, since she obviously had a less-than-decent image of him. She also had (to the best of his knowledge) only been sexual with two men, who were both dead. And brothers. No doubt Petyr's approach to the complicated art of fucking was much different than theirs. 

Obviously he took his time undressing her, petting her hair, all the bullshit that he thought might please her. But once it started, Petyr was a different man. He thought about the irony of the situation, because the last time he had had sex, was with Cat's sister. Who was also dead. "Oh well. I suppose at the end of the world, when only a few people are left, they'll fuck. There are worst things. And if it's that difficult to pound your cock into a woman for a few minutes, then close your eyes and just get it over with."

She wasn't nearly as bad as Lysa, but she was loose from having children. Her breasts looked like they've had the life sucked out of them-at least Lysa's were still working factories. Her skin was no longer supple. She was clearly not enjoying it. And Petyr felt angry. He had spent years pinning over her. He had spent years (now wasted years) getting over her and learning to move on, only to end up being bored whilst fucking her in his house. All for her home. "Her very important home," he reminded himself. 

It must be difficult for Cat to whore herself like this. She must know that that's what she's doing though. "Catelyn Stark, just another one of Baelish's whores." Had a nice ring to it. And Cat wasn't stupid. Only by admitting what we are can we get what we want.

He supposed they were doing what normal couples did. Dating and fucking for the appropriate amount of time, and then popping the question. Petyr asked about five months in, and Catelyn obviously said yes. They talked about how excited they were and she was off. She would have to tell her children. 

Her children. Petyr knew their names, knew who to act around them. "I don't want to fill your father's place, I want to be a father when you need one." That seemed like a good angle. He just hoped that they didn't bother him. His experience with stepchildren wasn't very good. Lysa wanted him to act like Robin's dad, but Cat probably didn't want Petyr to look at them. He would need to though, and soon. He was going to ask Cat and the kids to move in with him, which was a bit disturbing. That many Starks in one Baelish house did not seem like a good combination. He was especially irked by the idea of a teenaged girl in his home. A potentially dangerous teenager girl. Anyone that has anyone to do with a Lannister is a hazard in Petyr's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we like Petyr's pov? Things will feel more immediate soon, I promise. These two chapters were for preparation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This all takes place in late Spring/early Summer.

The day after Catelyn told them, the Lannisters invited Sansa over for dinner. This was a welcome invitation, because Sansa desperately needed to get her mind off everything going on at home. The Starks were used to Sansa going over every once and a while, but Cat didn't want her to go. 

"Everything is so busy right now. Wouldn't you rather stay home?" Would Sansa rather stay home in the most depressing environment ever where everyone is tense because their mother is marrying their uncle? Or would she rather go eat a chef prepared meal in a mansion with her boyfriend and his family?

"It would be rude for me to say no, mom. We aren't doing anything, and they know it." 

"It's just...I would feel better if we all stayed home right now. At least until we meet up with Petyr and figure a few things out."

"I go to their house all the time. I'm not going to miss anything in a few hours." Catelyn started to speak, but Sansa intersected with, "I'm going to go get ready."

They were silent in the car. Sansa was working on getting her license, but Robb couldn't always find the time to teach her. She wanted to take lessons, but her mother insisted that Robb would be her tutor. The Lanisters had a driver that usually took her back.

They entered the neighborhood, which was a row of huge houses, all reserved for the rich and powerful. Each mansion was separated by lush, green, manicured lawns. Colorful gardens bunched up on the outskirts of yards and pressed flush against the bottoms of the houses. Sansa wanted to be out there, to be part of the nature. If she could meld into a flower, she wouldn't have to worry about her mothers or siblings or anything at all. She wouldn't have to rely on anyone but herself. She wished that people could photosynthesize, that way they wouldn't have to waste money on food. Or worry about whether or not they can buy food.

As they neared their destination, Catelyn said, "We have to talk about something. About the Lannisters."

Sansa's stomach churned. "I need to talk to you about them, too."

"Okay," her mother looked hesitant. "What is it?"

"They invited me to go on vacation with them this winter."

"What?" They pulled into the driveway.

"You know, they take a trip to Croatia every year and since things are getting pretty serious between Joffrey and me, they wanted to know if I wanted to go. With them. In winter."

"Absolutely not. The rest of the year will be a terrible time to do anything. We have the wedding to worry about, and the move-"

"The move?"

"Sansa-"

"We're moving? You're selling Winterfell?" Sansa's voice raised to a yell. She was struggling to determine if her mother was serious.

"No, no! We're just moving in with-" Someone knocked on Sansa's window. Both women stopped, startled. 

Sansa rolled down her window. It was one the Lannisters' servants. "Hello, miss."

"Hi," she got out of the car and said to Catelyn, without turning back, "I'll see you later."

As Sansa and the servant walked into the house, she realized that her mother never told her what she was going to say about the Lannisters.

 

"You look very nice tonight, little dove." Cersei smiled sweetly at Sansa over her wine. Sansa was never sure why so many people (her mother and Arya included) hated Cersei. Since day one, she had been nothing but kind and nurturing towards Sansa. She wished sometimes that Cersei would take her in. She would make a better mother than Cat has these past few years. "Doesn't she look darling, Joff?"

Joffrey looked up at Sansa. He plastered a smile on his face. "No one can match the beauty and grace my sweet Sansa carries." Sansa knew that he said things like that because Cersei wanted him to, but Sansa couldn't help but blush. She loved being complimented.

"Thank you." Sansa ate some chicken, which was tender and drenched in some kind of sauce. 

Jaime was next to Cersei, and Myrcella and Tommen were on the other side.

"Is anything exciting happening at home?" Cersei asked.

Sansa wondered if she should say no, but figured there was no harm. "My mother is getting remarried."

Cersei's expression changed. She glanced at Jaime. "Oh, really? To anyone we know?"

"Petyr Baelish."

There was a pause.

Joffrey burst out laughing. 

"That's very interesting." Cersei said. Sansa still couldn't read her expression.

"It's not that interesting, mother." Joffrey said, still laughing. "He marries one sister, she dies. Now he's marrying the other sister. How long will it be before-" 

"Let's have desert, shall we?"

Joffrey was being mean, but what he said worried Sansa. What if something did happen to her mother, and at the hands of someone who already has a dead wife? Sansa got so disturbed by the thought that she said to Cersei, "I think we're all moving in with him."

 

Before Sansa left, Cersei pulled her aside. "I understand that this new life may cause some...stress for you."

"It will."

"I just want you to know that...we have connections. There is always someone protecting you and you're family."

Sansa felt touched, relieved, and a little surprised. "Thank you," she said. "That means a lot to me."

Cersei smiled gently. "And we will continue to protect you. But, there will be a small price."

Sansa felt a slight flash of hesitation, but she trusted Cersei. "What is it?"

"Anything you see or hear Petyr Baelish do-anything unusual or bothersome or important-you need to tell us about it. Even private things."

Sansa kew that something wasn't right about this. She knew that it was rude to tell the details a man's activities to other people. Especially a man who's just welcomed you into his house. But the protection was worth it, and as long as Petyr didn't find out, she won't get in trouble. So she said, "I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, they'll meet soon. Probably next chapter.


End file.
